


Into the Mist

by marginalia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-05
Updated: 2005-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-07 13:04:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10361109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginalia/pseuds/marginalia





	

Harry's melting away. He can see his edges fading, blurring into the air. Someone asks if it's like that one film, you know, but he doesn't, and he's sorry he mentioned it at all. He doesn't really remember mentioning it; actually, he wouldn't want to be a bother. And he hasn't seen a film since he came into this world; he didn't see that many before. There were always other things he needed to be doing.

Other things.

He doesn't have things to do now, and when he wanders from room to room in 12 Grimmauld Place the ends of halted conversations drift like smoke into him, through him, while everyone sits about holding their breath, holding their words. The house itself is waiting, a shoe dropping, clouds hovering overhead.

Remus went as soon as it was over, and Harry thought he had been gone a long time before that. Hermione said they should follow him, but Molly shook her head and in her look was a history they were too young to remember and too old to not see. Harry was up and on to another room. Movingmovingmoving while everything around him stopped.

Late at night when no one can see him go, when no one can see him, he drifts through the walls through the windows through the rain you only see from the inside. He takes his broom and drifts outside, shoots straight up in the air, shoots for the moon, and falls. Falls until his broom catches him, his broom smarter than he is these days, his broom quicker than the earth.

Remus went and took with him not the answers, Harry long ago understood that there weren't answers, but he took the space for questioning. There are things to be said and wondered aloud that the others do not, cannot grasp. Neville tried, Neville touched his hand and told him to stop waiting, to go.

Harry is his own summoning, the solution to the Arithmancy puzzle of himself. The night air is cool around him as he goes.


End file.
